Break

We’re sitting here on opposite sides
of a flashy bartender called Skip
I walk over and offer you something
To break the silence we both agreed on then 
A peace treaty for an hour or two

No response, no break, no reaction
No judgement and I move along
Acknowledging my non-existence 
Later outside I shyly offer you fire 
you make it so clear you’ll ignite your own

Ignoring me from the corner of your eyes
Now finally you speak words again
I see Skip listening in as your volume rises
Line after line, explaining, proofing, yours
Showing it’s an old battle fought

Then I ask “Why not, for just these two hours?”
A truce bought with flames is still peace
Your jaw clenches and your eyes speak
As your voice explains me why my comfort does not matter
At least not to you 
and now I absolutely understand

The friend you could potentially be again
Sorry, that is simply not good enough for me